


Lost Boys

by gacrux



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M, dont mind me and my lab equipment over here, in the very distant future, just trying to make krory/devit/jasdero look like it could be a healthy relationship, some day, this is basically an experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gacrux/pseuds/gacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Krory makes some discoveries about unexpected people in unexpected places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Boys

**Author's Note:**

> What's Krory been up to since the almageddon? Easy. Babysitting.

They're just – they're just _kids_.

 

They've been stalking him ever since they recovered, Krory knows, and they've been nothing short of a hassle to deal with since their awakening as Noah, but they're still just petulant children waltzing around with nasty sneers and matching outfits and a horrible, absolutely _infuriating_ ability shared between the two of them. He thinks if they'd had any semblance of self-awareness when he first fought them, he'd be dead. Six feet under, pushing daises – there's not a doubt in his mind. Not since the incident with the Third Exorcists, and how they just sat back and watched and seemed to finally _see_.

 

They managed to sneak in some immature jeering and snickering at his expense, of course, it's _them_ after all, but still. In recollection it all appeared to be calculated and precise, in ways they had never seemed before. They had depended on the abilities deemed by themselves infallible, and it had cost them – if only just. They know better now. For as childish as they are, they do learn. Krory's seen their progress firsthand now.

 

Since then, and against his better judgment, Krory has found himself curious. About them, their past, the extent of their abilities and their role in the Noah clan. He thinks it might be a useless endeavour, being curious about one's natural enemy, but he never claimed to be smart. That's Lavi's job, or Marie's. He can eat akuma, he's immune to their virus, and he can bend steal beams with his teeth alone, but he's never been the brains of the operation. Experience and instinct is all he's ever lived by, and while experience might be telling him to watch his ass when those twins come circling, instincts proving to be slightly more rebellious.

 

Hence the current dilemma.

 

He's on a pilgrimage to the old castle. Rather, what's left of it since he went and blew it up. He still regrets that, off and on, every now and again. He thinks it was probably for the best, but he does miss it sometimes. Less now than before, but it _was_ his home. Dark and cold and miserable as it was, it was home.

 

He left the Finder back at the inn, parting ways with few more words than _goodbye_ and _thanks for Finding, and... stuff..._ because Krory's not very talkative with strangers, and Finders generally aren't any more interested in dialogue than he is. He's not sure if the man will be there when he gets back, and isn't all that concerned either way. The mission is done, akuma destroyed, no Innocence to be found. Turns out it was just the Earl stirring up trouble, a ruse of some kind for some nefarious purpose that Krory doesn't care to fathom. Not now. He does enough of that back at the Order.

 

So, dilemma. He's alone, first of all. He recognizes that as a possible mistake now more than ever. He's in the middle of the woods, down to his uniform and his teeth because he left all other supplies at the inn, and he can sense the twins. They have a very distinctive presence as Noah, jarringly different from akuma. Though he admits, he's gotten a little lax in the face of their presence alone because they've been near so often lately. He used to find it horrifying, being able to sense where they were in relation to his location, or to the Order. Krory's found they don't venture close to the Order much, which is a wise decision on their part, but they test the waters when he's out on missions. Especially when he's alone, in the middle of the woods, several miles from any town.

 

And yet.

 

His steps slow and eventually stop. He can see fine in the dark, more or less, and with the brightness of the full moon he thinks he'll be able to see them coming if they rush him. If all else fails, he'll certainly be able to sense them in time to react.

 

The problem isn't really combat related though, if he's honest. It's more to do with the fact that he's considering this at all, actually. Krory's never considered himself suicidal or stupid or anything, but the fact that maybe this is a horrible idea and he's not averse to it makes him wonder about his own damn self.

 

“Wow, you really are fucking crazy.”

 

Krory turns to look, but finds he can't see them. He can sense them well enough though, so he wonders what the point of blinding him was. He can't quite smooth the frown from his face because, while he's gotten used to their presence, it's been some time since he's actually interacted with them. He'd forgotten how infuriating they can be.

 

“Like, are you inviting us to kill you or what, old man? That eager to die?” Devit is no less arrogant than he once was, apparently. Sneakier, perhaps, more cunning, but full of himself. Jasdero mumbles a _“heh”_ under his breath and he's right behind Krory, close enough that he can hear the Noah breathe. That's unsettling, that's _different_. Krory suddenly feels like he's been had, because he should've been able to sense the boy the moment he so much as thought of creeping up next to him.

 

He didn't. Something's off.

 

“Oh _right,_ ” he can hear the shit-eating grin Devit is wearing. “You didn't know we'd figured out how to mask our presence.”

 

Krory frowns, searching for a presence and finding none. Nothing but the air and the echo of Devit's voice to assure him he's not going crazy, there _are_ two shitty teenaged Noah kids taunting him in the middle of a dead silent forest right now.

 

“Mhm. You get it now?” The boy must be purring, that's the only explanation for the way his voice thrums with pleased energy. “We let you sense us. We wanted you to come find us. You never did, though. Fucking _rude_.”

 

Somebody, one of them – _Devit? –_ gives him a push and he stumbles back into the other.

  
“Wh-” He can hear the hesitance in his own voice and has to remind himself: they're _kids_. “Why would you want that?” He asks. It takes a moment to realize the one behind him has locked their arms around his stomach, just below his own arms crossed defensively over his chest. Krory can hear Jasdero laughing under his breath again; warmth spreads where their bodies are pressed close.

 

“I dunno.” Devit replies, appearing in front of him. The abruptness of it has Krory taking a step back, into Jasdero, and then a step forward. _This is a problem,_ he thinks, hands clenching in the material of his jacket. “We kinda, y'know...”

 

“Want to _play_.” Jasdero quips, finishing off his brother's sentence. His voice is muffled against Krory's back. His voice is deeper, arms stronger. When he'd fought them before he can remember thinking he could snap their arms in half, they were both so skinny. Now, not so much.

 

“Well, I don't really want to.” He replies warily. Devit looks at him thoughtfully, raises a finger to scratch the side of his cheek.

 

“You know, it's funny.” He says, lips pulling back, “I don't recall asking what you wanted?”

 

Jasdero laughs a little hysterically, arms tightening around his waist. Krory sighs.

 

“Well, I'm afraid you should have.” He informs them.

 

It's not that he's faster than them, or stronger, or anything _more_ than they are – it's just experience. He activates his Innocence and grabs Jasdero's arms, pulling them apart easily. The Noah in question makes a curious noise, allows himself to be pulled around and used as a shield. He's limp as a ragdoll, head lolling back against Krory's shoulder without so much as a giggle. Krory's even got his forearm lodged against his throat, holding him quite firmly all things considered – but, no response.

 

This is not what Krory expected.

 

“Uh.” He stares down at the Noah, frowning. Then he looks up at Devit, still frowning. He thinks he might frown forever, at this rate. “Is he... okay?”

 

Devit, at least, has the decency to look semi-annoyed with his brother. It seems he didn't really expect this either.

 

“Yeah. He's just stupid.”

 

“Am not. Asshole.” Jasdero retorts, eyeing Devit from under his lashes. He's still smiling though, if a little meaner than before. If a Noah could purr, Krory imagines they would sound something like Jasdero at present. Then he adds, “I'm just _tired_ and the freak is _comfortable_.”

 

“Freak?” Krory echoes, scowling.

“Relax, exorcist. That's an endearment coming from Jas.”

 

“ _Endearment?_ ”

 

“What are you, a broken record?” Devit scoffs. He shifts and crosses his arms, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Fuck's sake, will you get off him already?”

 

Jasdero leers and finds the edges of Krory's overcoat, pulling it around himself.

 

“Uh.” Krory backs up a step, uncomfortable with the feeling of a Noah trying to zip himself inside Krory's uniform because who _does_ that, seriously. Jasdero just backs up with him, light on his feet and still pliant as foam. His hair tickles Krory's neck a little; it makes him itch.

 

Devit, in the meanwhile, has been fuming.

 

“ _Seriously_ you call me an asshole but then you go and do _this_ like there's nothing fucking wrong with it, you know you can be an absolute attention whore sometimes–”

 

“Don't call me that.” Jasdero snaps, going from wilted to rigid over the course of his brother's rant, like he's trying to decide whether to be angry or not.

 

“Oh, why, because it reminds you of when we were humans? Yeah, is that why?”

 

“I _said_ -”

 

“Fuck what you said, you freak, I–”

 

Jasdero ducks out from Krory's arm at the same time Devit lurches forward, like they've just had the same notion in perfect unison. Krory would be impressed if they weren't about to give each other bloody noses like a couple of wroth toddlers.

 

So, like any reasonable adult, he provides intervention.

 

“Honestly,” He sighs, holding Devit at an arm's length with both hands and managing to keep Jasdero pinned to a tree behind him. Once upon a time Miranda asked if he was any good at improvising during fights – he supposes he can give her the affirmative on that one next time he sees her. “Who lets you two out of your play pen?

 

Jasdero, who's managed to sling his arms up around Krory's shoulders and pull himself up so he can piggyback him, laughs eagerly. “You can't lock us in anywhere when we can just imagine up the key.”

 

“So nobody ever tries.” Devit adds, not trying very hard to free his hands. Instead he leans back, like he's testing whether or not Krory will hold him up. Seriously – _kids_.

 

“Except Road that one time, remember?” Jasdero props his head up on Krory's hair, squeezing his legs hard around Krory's waist to support himself. He kicks out a little, experimentally, like he might be trying to kick his brother or maybe he's just doing it for fun. “That was scary as _fuck_.”

 

“Shut up, oh my god, we agreed to pretend that never happened.” Devit kicks back with some viciousness, but he catches mainly tree trunk.

 

Jasdero shrugs, _oh well,_ and cranes over to look Krory in the eyes.

 

“Hey, freak, can you buy us some sweets?” He asks, blonde hair splaying over Krory's shoulder like it belongs there.

 

Krory sighs and shifts uncomfortably, back to crossing his arms out of blatant discomfort.

 

“Only if you stop calling me freak.”

 

Jasdero hums out of what appears to be genuine confusion. Then he shrugs again, _oh well_ , and acquiesces with a nod.

“Okay. Exorcist.” It sounds uncomfortable to say, and Krory doesn't particularly find any joy in being addressed by his working title only. So many people say it like that: dry, unsettled, distant. He opens his mouth to say something, but Devit beats him to it.

 

“Alright, fuck it. Krory, buy us some damn ice cream or something. Please.”

 

 _'Well,'_ Krory supposes, turning back from his abandoned pilgrimage to ashes and dust, _'it's a start.'_

 

As to what it's the start of, well. Krory doesn't stop to think about that. He never claimed to be the brains of the operation, after all. He just does what feels right. And right now, taking two over-glorified children out for ice cream seems like the best possible course of action. Maybe. Hopefully. Well, he's doing it anyway.


End file.
